


3 Songs for Connor (Part 2)

by waitshewrites



Series: 3 Songs for Connor [2]
Category: Video Blogging RPF
Genre: M/M, Tronnor, tronnor fluff
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-09-25
Updated: 2014-11-04
Packaged: 2018-02-18 17:33:55
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,540
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2356730
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/waitshewrites/pseuds/waitshewrites
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>This is Part 2 of the 3 part series, 3 Songs For Connor.</p>
    </blockquote>





	1. Valentine's Day Re-do

**Author's Note:**

> This is Part 2 of the 3 part series, 3 Songs For Connor.

** Part 2: Touch **

**February 20 th**

"It's a month." 

"Yeah." Connor said quietly but steadily.

"It's not that bad, ok?" Ricky patted Connor's knee, as they sat conversing solemnly on the living room sofa. "And then we have playlist live."

"Yeah."

Ricky changed tactics, “Do you have everything ready for today?”

"Today? What’s today?" Troye asked as he half-fell through the doorway, weighed down with luggage, and abruptly dropping it all heavily on the ground. 

Connor slapped Ricky's arm with utter lack of subtlety. He addressed Troye, "Nothing. 'Cept you’re leaving today." 

Troye laughed, "You sound awfully happy about that."

"Don't you fucking dare." Connor joked with fake sass, but the careless air faltered when he met Troye’s eyes. In that serious but too-calm voice of his, Connor said, "I'll miss you like hell, you idiot." He got up from the couch and strode over to Troye, there was nothing but care in his eyes. He was quickly a few inches from Troye, and gently brushed his hand down Troye's arm, before lingering on his hand. Troye held back words, looking on with a twinge of sadness. 

Ricky coughed and stood up.

"Should I take your bags to the car?"

"Wha-? Oh. Um. That'd be great." 

Troye ripped his gaze from Connor and reached down for his carry-on once again.

"No, Ricky, I've got it." Connor took the bag from Troye, and somehow adeptly handled the other two suitcases at the same time. "Go say good bye to everyone." Connor called behind him as he easily walked out.

 

Ten minutes later, Troye slammed the door to the passenger seat shut. "Ok, where to Con?"

"We've got what- five hours?"

"Yeah. Plane leaves at 9, so I should be at the airport around 6:30."

"Perfect, it's 1." Connor replied casually, as if he hadn't planned the day to a tee. "I feel like lunch, what do you think?"

"I think you didn't let me leave the bed until a half an hour ago, so food would be nice."

" _Rude_."

Troye rolled his eyes, "Wasn't complaining, babe. It was worth all these stomach pains." Troye leaned over to kiss Connor on the cheek. "So where're we going?"

"You'll see."

"Con!" But Connor just turned up the radio and drove off.

 

**********

“ _Connor_ , are we there yet?”

Connor chuckled to himself, “Just wait, Troye boy.”

“I’m _starving_. And we just passed two Subways.”

“I’m not taking you to a Subway on our last day together.”

“You make it sound like you’re dying.”

“We’re almost there, _okay?_ 5 minutes.”

“Where are we going that we’re driving away from the center of town?”

“You’ll see. This place is my little secret; it's usually empty.”

Finally, the car slowed and pulled over. Connor turned to Troye with a faint smile that reached up to spark in his eyes. Wordlessly, he unbuckled and got out of the car. When Troye opened the passenger side’s door, the sweet and salty air born from sea mist hit him, prompting an immediate smile. As Connor opened the trunk, Troye took off his shoes and jumped a white picket fence, placing his bare feet in the soft sand. Connor came up behind him, picnic basket in hand.

Troye intertwined his hand with Connor’s free one and breathed deeply, while Connor rested his head on Troye’s shoulder. The two happily watched the liquid crystal tide rush in and dissolve to foam before retreating. There was calmness to the raging symphony of the sea, but neither could tell if it was the waters inducing this feeling, or each others’ presence.

When they finally looked up at each other, after a long peaceful silence, Troye kissed Connor lightly but lovingly.

When Connor pulled away, he squeezed Troye’s hand and started to swing their joined hands ever so slightly. “So we gonna eat or?” He teased.

“ _Yes._ ” Troye grabbed the picnic basket and ran towards the sea. Connor chased after him laughing.

 

They ate cheeses and bread, splayed out on a massive blanket, and, naturally, spent a half hour trying to catch grapes in their mouths.

Connor eventually declared time for dessert and produced strawberries, whipped cream, and chocolate cake from thin air. They lay on their stomachs, facing each other, serving each other forks of chocolate cake because Connor was a romantic and Troye couldn’t help but love that.

Opening the strawberries and tin of whipped cream, Troye tried to conceal his terribly tempting thoughts, while the glint in his eyes completely gave him away.

With a daring smirk, Troye coated the strawberry in whipped cream and raised it to his mouth. Maintaining eye contact, Troye slowly licked the entire strawberry clean. Connor swallowed, determined to contain himself. But he couldn’t look away.

Troye finished his strawberry, tossed the top leaves aside, and dipped his fingers straight into the whipped cream.

Troye placed his fingers in his mouth, and pulled them out clean, still looking fixedly at Connor.

“You’ve got a little on your…?” Connor whispered in a gravelly voice.

Troye trailed his tongue across his lips at a painfully unhurried speed.

 _Two can play at this game_ , Connor decided. He scooped up some cream and brought it to Troye’s lips, instantly regretting this as the looks Troye gave him and feeling of Troye's lips became too much. When his fingers were once again devoid of whipped cream, he pushed the plate in between them away and smashed their lips together.

Troye sighed into the kiss, grateful because he didn’t know how much longer he could’ve lasted.

As an entity, the couple sat up, still kissing.

Connor leaned back, entwining one hand in Troye’s hair, as Troye straddled Connor's hips.

They heard nothing but the sea, which seemed more violent as the crashing waves fused with their pounding hearts. Their tongues danced and their hands explored. And yet, nothing was rushed.

Troye broke off the kiss, eventually. The questioning look in his eyes flickered, because he already knew the answer. Thus, instead, he ran his hands through Connor’s hair one more time, and hastily messed Connor’s quiff before the older could protest.

“ _Heyyy_.” Connor groaned like a child before he pecked Troye on the lips one more time. Then Troye rolled off his lap to stretch out in the sand.

Connor lay next to him, and they watched the deep indigos challenge the stray streaks of amethyst and tangerine that painted the horizon.

“You don’t have to be perfect, Con-con.”

“Hmm?”

“Why’d you plan this, baby?”

“It’s my re-make of Valentine’s day.”

“Shit!” Troye shot up, “I forgot about Valentine’s day!”

Connor pulled on Troye’s hand, dragging him back to the ground. “No you didn’t. That was the day I fucked up.”

“You mean the day I fucked up.”

“Let’s agree to disagree.” Connor turned and curled into Troye.

“You’re crazy Con, that wasn’t your fault.”

“Hush.”

“We need to talk about these things.”

“We did.”

“You don’t owe me anything.” Troye said seriously.

“I know.” Connor hummed.

_“Okay?”_

“Okay.” Connor whispered before winking and giggling to himself, too proud of himself for that one.

Troye rolled his eyes, finally settling in to take in the quiet.

 

**********

Another hour later, Connor was dropping Troye off at the airport. In the parking lot, they embraced for well over a few minutes, before Connor could let go.

Connor waited to watch the plane take off, busy flooding Troye’s phone with texts for him to read when he lands.

 

To Troye:

_I’ll miss you like hell._

To Connor:

_Me too._

To Troye:

_Have a safe flight._

To Connor:

_I will. Don’t worry._

_I have to go. Boarding the plane. XXX_

To Troye:

_I already want to see you again._

_Who’s going to keep me warm tonight?_

_Call me as soon as you land okay?_

_My room will feel so empty without my Troye Boy._

_But say hi to everyone for me._

_And have a safe, safe, safe flight babe._

**********

**March 2 nd**

At his desk, editing his next video, Connor was surprised to hear his music interrupted by the familiar sound of an incoming skype call.

“Con-con!” Troye’s face appeared, he was sitting on the floor in a hallway, hunched over his laptop.

“Hey! What’s up?” They had already skyped for the day, but Connor wasn’t complaining.

“We recorded the song- your song!”

“Happy Little Pill?”

“Yeah!”

“Oh so you meant _your_ song.”

“Ugh, Connor. It’s dedicated to you.”

“That’s so cool though! I’m so proud of you.”

Troye buried much of his face in his hands, “ _Stop_.”

“No, I’m sure it’s amazing.”

“Want to hear it?”

“Don’t you want to be with me when I hear it for the first time?”

“Are you kidding me?! Of course not.” Troye looked so nervous, eyes wide, fingers clenched into fists under his chin.

“ _Okay_ , send it over.”

Connor watched as Troye leaned forward and squinted at the screen, attaching the song file in an email, momentarily not focused on Connor. “Ok, I sent it, and now someone’s calling me. Gotta go. Miss you.”

“Miss you too.”

The call ended.

Connor hooked his laptop up to the stereo, hands shaking. He pressed play and hurried to hop onto his bed. Eyes closed, Connor listened to Troye’s melody over and over.

He forgot himself until his phone buzzed.

To Connor:

_Thoughts??? YOU’RE KILLING ME WITH THIS SILENCE._

To Troye:

_I'm speechless. It’s amazing. I’m so lucky to have you._


	2. Surprise

**March 5th**

_“No one ever said angels can't feel pain_

_If I could be your wings everyday_

_we'd fly too close to the sun"_

Troye groaned. In one swift motion, he ripped out another page from his notebook and crumpled it into a ball. His aim was as off as his lyrics today: the paper missed the waste basket by several feet.

The ep was supposed to be autobiographical and yet Troye had mostly written about Connor. Or at least he’d been trying to.

Troye had no idea how to articulate how grateful he was for Connor. He couldn't write words as beautiful as the person they were trying to embody. He couldn't just sing about the way Connor made him feel. The way the distance between them made him physically ache. Hence, out of seven songs, only Happy Little Pill had survived past the second draft.

With resignation, Troye closed the notebook and pushed it away from him. 

Leaning back in his chair, Troye heaved a sigh and pinched the bridge of his nose. He picked up his phone to type out a text to Connor, but deleted it before he finished the second word. He knew his Con would humor him and sympathize but Troye didn't want to bother him. 

Nonetheless, a cup of tea and a few cookies later, Troye was relaxed and on Skype with J.C.

"Hey man. One sec. _KIAN!_ "

"Shhhh, he might hear." Troye scolded. 

"Nah, Connor went to the movies with Ricky."

Kian came into Troye's view as he flopped onto his stomach to lie next to J.C. in the latter's bed. 

"Sup Troye?" Kian said.

“I need your help.”

“Yeah, of course, anything.” Kian reassured.

“There’s been a change in plans.”

“You’re not coming anymore?!” J.C. sounded genuinely concerned.

“No, of course I’m coming! Just listen…”

 

15 minutes later, every detail had been reviewed and Kian was outside making a call, already implementing the best Valentine's Day Re-do Troye could have come up with.

As J.C. started to say goodbye, Troye leaned forward and rushed his nervous words, needing to know one thing: "How's he been?"

J.C. sat up straighter, his usual lax persona gone. "He's sad for sure. I mean, I don't know, he's like in a sort of funk, you know?"

Troye inhaled sharply, barely nodding.

 J.C. continued, "He's always talking too deeply, asking me about what happiness is. Not really himself."

Troye's hands cupped his head as he stared at the keyboard.

"Man, don't worry though. Now that we know what to look out for... He gave Ricky the pills, did you know? He's trying, really."

Troye breathed out and pulled his hands away from his face to grip the desk’s edge, "Ok. Good. Yeah."

"He doesn't tell you this stuff?"

The anxiety that constricted Troye's chest returned, "No."

J.C. paused in disbelief but quickly realized it wouldn’t help to prod Troye now.  "Well, don't worry. When you come back, so will the Connor we know."

"12 days." Troye exhaled.

 

********** 

**March 7th**

To Connor:

I miss all the YouTube boys, but mostly you.

**March 9th**

To Connor: 

I really need to get away (with you)

**March 13th**

To Connor:

One week of March won't be enough for me.

**March 14th**

To Connor:

I want to repeat San Francisco.

 

**********

**March 16th**

"Only 4 more days!" Connor cheered through the screen. 

Troye shifted again, attempting to take up all of Connor’s view.

"I know! Can't wait!" Troye smiled too widely.

"I just want to fast forward."

Someone dropped a heavy suitcase in the background, and Troye winced.

"Where are you?"

"... Recording studio?"

"Oh! How's it going?"

"Good I guess." Troye sounded distracted, constantly glancing behind him.

"Flight 237. Seats 14-17 now boarding," a woman's voice announced. Troye couldn't gauge how much sound his laptop picked up as he covered the mic.

"Sorry, Con. I really got to go." Troye hastily lied, "The producer needs to talk to me."

Connor scrunched his face, "Fine..."

"Sorry." Troye slammed the laptop shut.

 

**********

**March 17th**

"I'm home." Connor announced as he walked into the O2L house. His head was down as he sent a text:

To Troye:

3 days... Can't wait.

"Can you get me the vacuum?" Kian shouted from a few rooms away.

" _Ugh_... Fine." Still looking down at his phone, Connor crossed the entrance to the closet, and wrenched open the door. Reaching out his hand, Connor was surprised to grasp nothing but air. 

He finally took his eyes off twitter.

The coat closet was almost empty: no jackets, no shoes, no vacuum.

Alone on the floor, lay a pack of gum. Connor picked up the pack and turned it over in his hand to find a big letter “I” on the back in neon duct tape. “Haha, Kian. Very funny.” Connor called. No response. “Kian?”

“Please bring the vacuum. It’s in the bathroom, it’s important.”

Detecting the uncharacteristic urgency in his friend’s voice, Connor hurried to the bathroom wondering what use a vacuum was in a crisis.

Upon opening the bathroom door, Connor found the same setting. All towels, soaps, and other removable items were missing from the bathroom. This time a neck pillow, the U-shaped kind for travel,  remained the sole thing on the counter. This too had a duct tape letter: “T.”

“What the hell.”

Now J.C. yelled for Connor, “Come to my room, quick!”

Connor groaned, “Where’s the camera, guys? I know this is a prank. What even is this joke you’re playing?” Yet he ran to J.C.’s room.

Though not empty, the bedroom was uncommonly clean. In the center of the room, practically impossible to miss, was a suitcase with a giant duct tape letter “L.”

Connor furrowed his brow and squinted, looking back and forth between the items in his hand and the large luggage. He didn’t want to get his hopes up, but the _texts… and the odd behavior on Skype… and a suitcase…_

Heart thumping, Connor waited for one of his friends to “need” his help again.

Seconds later, a text came. From Troye.

To Connor:

Come to your room! QUICK. IT’S IMPORTANT.

Connor read the text multiple times, stunned. He knew what this meant. Sort of.

He made it to his own door in a few mere strides, took a deep breath, and burst in through the door.

Connor didn’t have time to register anything, before he was knocked to the ground by a slighter, taller frame. Even so, Connor didn’t have to think; he’d know this person anywhere.

“ _Troye_!”

Connor wrapped his arms around Troye, grinning so wide his cheeks hurt. The two rolled on the floor, laughing and trying to touch as much of the other as possible, trying to prove the other was tangible and _there_. Somehow, Connor’s head was pressed into Troye’s chest and Troye’s leg was wrapped around Connor’s middle. As they failed to catch their breath, they tried to sit up and untangle themselves.

“What are you doing here?” Connor’s eyes sparkled and his cheeks were flushed.

“Surprise!” Troye threw up his hands. Only then did Connor notice Troye’s shirt, which had a big letter “A” on the front.

“I-T-L-A-?”

 Troye smiled shyly, “Yeah, well see, I really wanted to wear this shirt, so if you could just switch the L and the A.”

Connor laughed heartily, expecting nothing less from his Troye. Yet he quickly toned down, eyes widening, as he asked, “Wait? I-T-A-L-?”

Troye reached into his back pocket, “This had to be last. I wanted to see your face when you opened it.” Troye pushed an envelope into Connor’s hands, a duct tape “Y” stuck to the front.

“I-T-A-L-Y- _What?”_ Connor hastily ripped open the envelope, and two plane tickets fell out.

Once again, the two toppled to the floor in a firm embrace for Connor had surged at Troye. Squeezing his boyfriend tight, Connor pecked him on the cheek and whispered in his ear, “ _My god, you’re amazing_.”

When they broke away, Troye smirked and tilted his head. “Hey Con-con, you know there’s more?” Troye stood up and offered his hand to Connor. Then he led them to the kitchen where the other boys were waiting to cheer.

“Go sit down, we’ll serve everything,” Kian shooed them into the next room. Before Connor could protest, the transformed living room rendered him speechless.

Fairy lights lined the walls, lanterns precariously perched throughout the room, and, in the center, a small round table was set for dinner for two, complete with a white table cloth and champagne glasses. As Connor pulled Troye in, he murmured, “ _How did I get so lucky?_ ”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let me know what you think!  
> Tumblr: conconsivan.tumblr.com


	3. What A Cute Couple

**March 18 th**

Determined to seize their short three days, Connor mapped out everything for Troye: picking restaurants, listing  good shopping centers, and researching distances between each destination. Bewildered by the extensive itinerary, Troye reminded Connor that he wanted time to simply enjoy being together.

It took a lot of coaxing and a few kisses, but Troye talked Connor down to a single activity and dinner out.

And when they got there, Connor swore the zoo had never looked so well kept or smelled so bare-able. But then again, Troye had a way of making everything seem vibrant.

When Troye’s crystal eyes sparkled and crinkled as he laughed, Connor felt lighter than he had in weeks. Head tilted to the side, Connor watched as Troye mimicked the movements of a lemur and complained good naturedly about the similarities he shared with it. He smiled ever so slightly as Troye added commentary on the polar bears’ movements, suggesting that one grumpy papa bear just wanted another fish. Connor was so busy admiring his boyfriend that he didn’t even notice the way Troye checked to make sure Connor was laughing along.

The two inched closer and closer as the day went on; they were so caught up in one another that they forgot to hold themselves back. Unthinkingly, Connor slipped his hand into Troye’s back pocket as they watched the penguins and Troye leaned back against Connor, chuckling softly when a baby penguin fell on its stomach.  Troye had just turned to ask Connor to name the baby penguin when a little old lady walked by. “Oh, what a lovely couple you two are.”

The two jerked apart, as if suddenly repelled apart by a stronger force. They apprehensively watched the woman, refusing to respond or look at the other. The woman raised two hands to her mouth in concerned realization, “Oh! I’m sorry dearies. You’re not together then?” Their cheeks burned. Troye awkwardly rubbed his neck and tried to meet her gaze. Between the woman’s gold rings and bangles and her straw hat precariously perched atop her wild, wispy, gray hair, the woman looked anything but threatening.

“We are.” Connor said a little too loudly. Troye whipped his head towards Connor, clearly taken aback. Connor sidestepped and wound his arm around Troye’s middle. “I mean, he’s _okay_ , right?” Troye giggled and the woman beamed.

“I think you make a fine pair. Two beautiful boys like yourselves. Anyways, sorry to bother you. I don’t always think before I speak.”

“Actually could you take a picture of us?” Connor glanced around, the penguin arena was rather empty today- anyone likely to watch YouTube was probably not going to be found at the zoo at 10 am on a Tuesday morning. Besides, Connor really wanted a picture of them together. He had multiple pictures saved on his phone of Troye: Troye early in morning or curled up on the couch, embarrassing ones when Troye wasn’t looking and stunning ones with Troye wrapped in Connor’s ill-fitting clothing. Nonetheless, it’d be nice to have a few traditional photos, even if he couldn’t share them.

They posed cutely with the penguins, thanked the lady, and went on their way. Of course, for the rest of the day their displays of affection were much more subdued. They had been gently reminded that they were not free to do and touch as they pleased.

**********

That night, after a relaxing dinner in a diner, they came home to a house full of boys. Well, only 5 boys, but the members of O2L were rowdy enough and loud enough to be mistaken for a wild party.

The kitchen was already in shambles: far too many half full chip bags lay crinkled and strewn across the counters, a ridiculous amount of condiments painted the cabinets, and the floor was unexplainably stickier than it had been that morning. Shrieks of laughter rang from the backyard.

Connor opened the glass door to the porch to find Sam chasing Kian carrying a bucket of _something_. Liquid sloshed everywhere, and with every swing Sam managed to splash himself and the ground while Kian remained dry. Ricky watched on, cheering Sam on and throwing popcorn anytime Kian tried to come close. Trevor came up behind an unaware Troye and sighed, “They are actually five years old.” Troye jumped.

Instinctively, Connor jolted forward to place his hands at Troye’s shoulder blades and steady him. “Damn, Trevor. You scared me-” But Troye’s dialogue cut off when hands crept down his arms and seized his waist. Connor dragged Troye backwards as Troye laughed and screamed “ _Con!_ ”

Hysterically laughing, Connor backed up into J.C. who was armed with ammo for the food fight continuing a few feet away. Open containers of whipped cream, mustard, mayo, and chili clattered to the floor. J.C., Troye, and Connor fell through the doorway into a crumpled pile.

On top of the pile, Connor sat up easiest and extracted his trapped leg. He offered Troye his hand, pulling the sore boy up from the floor, “You okay?”

Troye shook out his limbs and stretched his neck, “Yeah, I think so.”

“I’m alright too, thanks for asking Con.” J.C. couldn’t hide the amused taunt in his voice.

“Oh. Sorry!”

“I get it. I get it. _Some_ people are more important.” J.C. smirked and headed off to return to the duel outside.

Troye wrinkled his nose and shook his head, “He doesn’t know what he’s talking about.”

Connor tenderly wiped sauce off Troye’s cheek, “Yeah he does.”

**********

When everyone had settled down, they picked out a movie and clamored into the still-dirty living room for beer and pizza. Around midnight, everyone retired to their bedrooms.

“ _Troyee._ ” Connor stuck out his hand, motioning for Troye to take it as he simultaneously walked in the other direction. As tempting as a bed sounded- especially one occupied by a sleepy Connor Franta- Troye had made plans with Ricky and now was as good a time as any.

**********

 “I can’t believe you want my help. You’re so talented, this stuff is amazing.” Ricky rifled through Troye’s secret little notebook, stopping every so often. They sat huddled around several spread out pages on the corner of the kitchen table; everything else had been pushed aside except a box of cookies and now lukewarm cups of coffee.

“I’m so blocked. There’s no way to keep the creativity flowing, you know?” Troye ran his fingers through his hair.

“Maybe you just need to use what you have. Pull a little from each song. Some of this is…striking.” Ricky scanned another paragraph, and exhaled heavily “Damn…”

“What?!” _  
“Nothing’s ever broken… New hands need to build them.” _

Troye shrank in his seat, “Yeah, I don’t know what I was thinking, a bit melodramatic really.”

“Are you kidding me? Stop apologizing. This is talent.”

Troye began to ramble about how he had no idea what he was doing and he desperately didn’t want to fuck this up, but his monologue faded as he listened to Ricky muttering lyrics under his breath. When Ricky had turned a few pages and reached “ _I can feel we’re getting closer,”_ he met Troye’s gaze. A knowing smile gave Ricky away.

“I’m so glad he has you.” His voice rang clear, but didn’t warm Troye’s heart as he’d expected. Troye patted Ricky’s hand, unsure of the right response. Ricky persisted, “He’s a different person when you’re here. Don’t you see how he looks at you? Even his laugh is different.”

Oddly, Troye stared at his lap, brow furrowed, studying his fidgeting fingers. “Is that really a good thing?”

“What do you mean? He’s _happy_.”

“Is he?” Troye questioned, truly searching Ricky’s body language.

Ricky hesitated. “He’s getting better, Troye.”

“How do I know that if he always seems cheerful?” Troye hated the way his voice cracked. “I’ve no indication of when he’s genuinely feeling up because I never hear of him otherwise.”

“He gave me-”

“I know.” Troye interrupted firmly; some things he couldn’t hear twice. “But isn’t that something I should hear from him? We can talk about his nightmares, but we can’t talk about his feelings.” Clearly, these worries were not new to Troye, but voicing them never seemed to end well. Troye stared at the empty page in front of him. No one spoke, whilst Ricky failed to keep his eyes off of Troye. The slight boy sagged under the weight of a large, old sweatshirt. His hair stuck up in all directions as hair only can between the lost hours of 1 to 4 am. “Whatever.” Troye rose and resignedly closed the notebook, shoving stray papers into the crevices as the notebook couldn’t quite close.

Ricky nodded. “Good night.”

“Night.”

“Have more faith in your work, okay?”

“Thanks man.”

When Troye snuck under the covers still fully clothed and nuzzled up next to Connor, he studied Connor’s placid expression. He didn’t know what he was seeking, but he didn’t find it. Troye kissed Connor’s temple and shifted away to get comfortable. Nevertheless, he sighed serenely when Connor subconsciously moved with him, hands moving to cinch his waist and hold on.

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am getting everything together for school. So I will be updating more frequently, I promise!  
> If you want to follow me to know when I update my tumblr is conconsivan.tumblr.com. :)

**Author's Note:**

> Tumblr: conconsivan.tumblr.com
> 
> All feedback is appreciated <3


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